Chapter One: Bare Feet and Bubble Gum

Monday, January 30, 2012

One of our first dates was to a Padre’s game. Photo circa 2005

I’ve known
my husband for seven years now and somehow everything and nothing seems crazy
about Scott being my husband. When I think of the fact that ten years ago I was
eating my lunch alone in the stacks of my high school library wondering if I
would ever meet anyone beyond my family who would truly know me, everything about it seems crazy. But when
I think about how nature is the avenue we both use to understand this world, how
living life and loving our families are our first priorities and how we both
enjoy simple pleasures like riding bikes, drinking beer and eating burritos (and
apparently things that start with the letter b), nothing seems crazy about it.

We
met down by the beach, as you might have imagined. We were at a mutual friend’s
birthday party located in the small garage of a weathered beach house. There
was a keg of beer, a ping pong table and about ten other party guests mostly frat guys engaged in drinking games. It was a
clear, invigorating January night and damp salty wind snuck through the cracks in
the garage. I was in my sophomore year at The University of San Diego and he
was in his at San Diego State. Our interests weren’t too far off from what they
are now.

The first thing I noticed about him was his face. I think I lost my
breath a little when he walked in, even though I pretended not to notice him. The
second thing I noticed was that he wasn’t wearing any shoes, despite the cold. One
of the first things he noticed about me was my wetsuit tan. The contrast
between my tan hands and white winter arms was pretty obvious and proved to be
the perfect topic for our first conversation.

A few minutes after Scott and his roommate Mark arrived, my roommate Kate
and I got a phone call letting us know that our friend was having a party at
his house out by San Diego State. We prepared to leave, but in order to exit
the garage we would have to walk by Scott and his roommate Mark, who were
nonchalantly standing in the doorway.
Mark was tall and had thick brown curls
that fell around his happy face. He stood about two or three inches taller than
Scott who I estimated to be around six feet tall. Scott had short sand
colored hair and a narrow build all the way up to his shoulders, which were
broad. His torso reminded me of an upside down triangle. As I passed him we made eye contact. He said hi, and I, pretending to
have just noticed him, said hi back. His eyes were gold and green and kind.
They looked like eyes that saw the good in the world and held onto it.

After a few minutes of talking, he
reached down and gently clasped my wrist in his right hand, lifting it closer
to his eyes. He made a cute remark about how I must be a surfer to have such
awesome tan lines, but just as we got to talking about surfing, my other friends
pulled up in the alley to take Kate and I out to SDSU. Scott asked
where we were going and I quickly explained that we were headed to a party out
at State. He had miraculously heard of the same party and, although he and Mark had a
fun night of burning CD’s planned (a detail I learned later), he said they
would try to meet up with us and took my number.

Scott
called about an hour later. I was too nervous to answer and threw my phone at
my friend Stephanie who kindly answered and explained where we were and how to
get there. When he arrived at the party, I’m not even sure I went to the door to
greet him and the three roommates he had brought along, either because I was
too nervous or I was trying to act cool (probably both). I found him soon after
and we sat on the couch. People around us were drinking straight out of wine
bags and dancing to pop music, but I couldn’t tell you much else about the party
since Scott had captured my focus. I had gum in my mouth and kept blowing
bubbles (nerves again. That, or I was just an obnoxious college girl) as
our conversation jumped from surfing to school to life. He made a comment
about my gum.

And I said, “I bet I can blow
a bubble in your mouth.” I did. And then we kissed for three hours until his
roommates pulled him away to go home. No lie.

Kissing him made every part of me feel alive. We were simply drawn to
each other like opposing magnets. I felt as though we kept kissing to hold on
to the happiness we found in one another. I felt I could see through him to
something pure and exceptional; to something awakening that I’d never
encountered in any other experience in my life.

I went to sleep that night with three of my roommates in a queen size bed
lying awake not because of discomfort, but because every part of who I was had
been awakened.

I took Scott to my sorority formal a few months after we met. Like his hair do? Thank you.

The summer after we met Scott brought me on his family trip to the lake. It was a big step.

But it went well. I can be charming when I try.

And the rest is history, but I’ll let you in on it some time, even though I’m pretty sure you know the outcome.

I'm a new reader so please forgive the multiple comments in one day, just playing catch up here and LOVING your blog and your story!! Oh my goodness this post made me SO happy! What a sweet beginning to a love story 🙂 And I love the pictures, you and your husband are a truly beautiful couple 🙂

Devon DeMint is a mother, writer and surfer living in a funky beach town in northern San Diego with her husband and two daughters. When she is not busy with the above, she can be found Googling 'what do your insides look like at 9 months pregnant?' and 'is quiche actually healthy?'. She loves sweet wine, making up words for body parts and sleeping outside. She has neat closets and messy kitchen floors. [Read more...]